


Pain

by Grinner_H



Series: Broken [2]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-04
Updated: 2014-03-04
Packaged: 2018-01-14 13:29:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1268176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grinner_H/pseuds/Grinner_H





	Pain

_This,_ Squalo thinks, staring up at the gigantic portrait which hangs upon the wall in the ground floor hallway of the Varia Headquarters, _is bullshit._

From his place within that golden frame, Tyr stares back imperiously; icy blue irises hard and stern.

Squalo leans his weight against the opposite wall, cigarette glued to his lips the way his sight adheres itself to the man who he barely knew, yet came to greatly respect. 

The weight of those eyes are burdensome and mocking, as if they're sizing him up - _judging_ him the way they did when Squalo was a skinny thirteen-year-old demanding a fight with the Varia's leader. Tyr has a gaze like an impenetrable fortress, like the glinting edge of a too-sharp blade.

Squalo pulls the cigarette from his lips, exhales; gaze intently following the curls of smoke just so he'd have an excuse to tear his eyes away from those condescending features without looking like a coward. He watches the smoke dance up and up until it disappears completely and nothing but bitterness is left on his tongue.

The butt of his cigarette lodges itself once more between his chapped lips - it stings like a bitch, but Squalo welcomes the pain, it keeps him awake - and his fingers raise up, running themselves along the teeth marks Dino left along the corners of his mouth, his neck, the soft skin just above his clavicle, the cap of his shoulder.

Dino's bit him more than usual today.

The pads of his fingers dance over and over again along those bruises, pressing down hard and eliciting pained gasps from Squalo's mouth. He steadfastly keeps his eyes open even though he wants nothing more than to sink into sleep, right here in this corridor; knows that if he closes them, he'll see Dino - murderous fire behind his hazel eyes, mouth twisted into a snarl that screams _want_ and _love_ and _loathing_ all at the same time.

Better to bear the brunt of Tyr's patronizing gaze than Dino's deleterious cruelty.

Squalo drags himself from the cool comfort of the wall, keeping his eyes trained on the dirtied front of his jackboots, the faint _taptaptap_ of his soles against fine marble flooring, until he reaches the solid oaken door at the end of the hallway. He fumbles with the brass doorknob, twists it, steps into the darkness of what is known as the Varia's den. 

No one ever uses this place, even if they _could._ Not since Xanxus and Squalo claimed it as their own.

Squalo knows this room the way he knows the way of the sword. He doesn't bother himself with the light switch, stumbling over to the gray couch he likes to lazily lounge on during the pockets of free time he's allowed every once in a while. 

He gracelessly falls onto the couch, back of his head hitting rather sharply against the armrest. Squalo doesn't mind the pain, it's a welcome contrast to the dull ache thrumming madly within his bones. 

He takes another drag of his cigarette, exhales into the darkness. _This is fucking bullshit._

\--

When Squalo awakens, it is to shafts of morning light and a migraine from alcohol he didn't drink. He doesn't remember falling asleep, but there is a pillow beneath his head, and a blanket over his too-thin body.

He sits up and glances to the coffee table on his right, where he finds his cigarette in the ashtray - though he didn't put it there - and a flask he doesn't need to look in to know what it contains.

And it's things like these that make Squalo love Xanxus a little more, want to hate him a little more, but he knows that hate would be a lie. 

He reaches for the flask, unscrews the cap, and pours himself a drink. It's warm milk with cinnamon and honey - a natural stress reliever. 

Squalo takes a sip, swallowing the beverage, swallowing frustration. It is bitter like a cigarette.


End file.
